Balance of Terror Read online

  The meal took almost an hour to come together and she shook her head when she saw the haphazard look of what eventually crowded two plates. But it was hot, nutritious and cheap. Under the circumstances, she couldn’t ask for more.

  After putting the plates on the table, she walked back to the bedroom. Dusk fell quickly on Marentim and the room was already dim, the outlines of furniture barely visible, but Moon was gratified to hear steady breathing coming from the bed. Maybe her last bout of shopping – Moon’s Benzodiazepine Mixture #14 – had done the trick. She certainly hoped so.

  Walking across to Srin’s resting form, she put a hand on his forehead. His temperature felt normal, which was to be expected. He wouldn’t be needing his regular dose of hyperpyrexia-inhibitors for another two days.

  He stirred against her hand, sought it out with his…and pulled it to his mouth, where he dropped a kiss into her palm.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “What for?” she asked, her voice equally low.

  “For being so useless. We should have left here by now. We should be—”

  “Ssh,” she interrupted. “I have dinner ready. Or at least something vaguely approximating a meal.”

  He chuckled and slowly swung his legs out of bed while she kept her clenched fists behind her back. “You really have been improving with your cooking, you know.”

  She snorted. “When I think of my first attempts, that’s not saying much.”

  She didn’t help him to the dining table but she hovered close by and, by the tightening of his lips, she knew he knew it too. Silently, they took their seats.

  “What kind of meat is this?” he asked, after taking a mouthful of food and chewing on it thoughtfully.

  “I…it’s….” She shrugged and gave him a wry smile. “To be honest, I don’t know. It looked the freshest, so I bought some.”

  “No doubt to the intense disappointment of the native population, it can’t be human.”

  Moon frowned as she glanced down at her plate. “How do you know?”

  He grinned. “It doesn’t taste like chicken.”

  “Oh you!”

  He was joking again and maybe that’s what made her laugh a little louder than she should have, considering the small size of the jest. Any small progress he made was like clawing out of an abyss and she felt so helpless watching him. To have a little of the old Srin back was more precious to her than a planet made of diamond.

  “How do you feel?” she asked, in as casual a voice as she could muster, shoving the vegetables around with her cutlery.

  His forehead furrowed as he groped for words. “I feel…exhausted, as if I’m smothering in a cloud of white fibre. It takes such an effort to concentrate on any one thing.”

  “And your spasms?”

  “Not one, since you gave me those tablets earlier on. Maybe they’re helping. I hope so.”

  So did she.

  She felt Srin’s heavy gaze on her, and knew what topic was coming up next.

  “The chip,” he said. “From your old research partner. You haven’t played it yet, have you?”

  “No,” she replied, pretending intense interest in how she cut some tubers.

  “I don’t know why you’re waiting, Moon.”

  She could have lied, but didn’t. Srin had suffered more than enough of that during his life.

  “It’s you,” she admitted after a pause, looking up at him. “If I know Kad, once I play that chip, we’ll be off on some breakneck journey across the galaxy again. I can’t – I won’t – do that until I’m sure you can cope with whatever we have to face next.”

  “I’m not a child, Moon.” But his voice lacked anger.

  She shook her head and rose, carrying the now-empty plates to the cleaning unit.

  “You’re weaker than you think, my love,” she said, her back to him. “The best thing for you right now is a top-flight Republic medical facility, one month’s enforced rest and an intense round of medical treatment.”

  She turned and leant against the counter. “But all I can offer you is a few stolen weeks in a habitat that would have been condemned on any other civilised planet, and a guaranteed future of uncertainty.” She shrugged and smiled wryly at him. “Can you fault my hesitation?”

  “Play the chip,” he said softly. “I know it’s a one-off, that’ll it destroy itself after running, but I don’t think staying here is any smarter a move. The Republic can’t catch us if it doesn’t get a tip-off on where we are. And it can’t get a tip-off as long as we keep moving.”

  He stopped, swayed in his chair and blinked, as if clearing something from his vision. Moon’s hands tightened on the prefab ledge. “What’s the matter?”

  “I…,” he paused and shook his head, taking a deep breath at the same time. “I suddenly feel as if I’ve been dropped into a 6g environment.”

  “Your limbs feel heavy?” She had read about that side-effect on one of the medical labels she’d read but, compared to his convulsions, it seemed like a small price to pay.

  “Limbs, body…brain.” He smiled weakly as his words became hesitant. “I think…I need to…lie down.”

  Moon hurried to his side and, supporting him, helped him stagger back to bed. He collapsed onto the mattress and fell asleep in minutes.

  Moon looked down tenderly at his face, too craggy to be called handsome, but compelling in its own way. She was reminded of the spark of attraction when she first saw him aboard the Differential, and how envious she had been of his openness and apparent lack of guile. Surrounded as she had been by people with their own agendas, how could she not fall in love with such an honest man?

  Quietly, she left the room and walked back to the cubicle that masqueraded as a living room.

  Kneeling down, her fingers ran over the rough upholstery on the bottom edge of the cheap, cramped sofa. When she withdrew her hand, she was holding a chip. It wasn’t as well disguised as the chip she’d found in her ravaged lab at the Phyllis Science Centre, but it didn’t have to be. It had been the doctor, Leen Vazueb, who had given her this second chip while they were still on Lunar Fifteen. Kad had provided accompanying instructions that she play it when she reached Marentim, but she didn’t think she was ready to take that next step.

  She looked down into her hand, watching the mall token catch the light from the kitchenette. Should she take Srin’s advice and play it now? But what if he suffered another attack of convulsions? She turned the little disc over and over in her fingers. She’d give it one more day, she decided, just to make sure that the cocktail of drugs she had Srin on was stabilising his condition.

  She knew they couldn’t wait forever. Srin was right. The longer they stayed on Marentim, the greater the chance of discovery.

  “Tomorrow,” Moon told herself. “But only if Srin’s better.”

  “Hello Moon.”

  Kad looked out at her from the cheap monitor screen.

  “If this chip is being played, it means that either Moon Thadin successfully reached Marentim, or the Fodox Rebels have killed her and appropriated the chip for themselves. I sincerely hope it’s the former.”

  “Thanks,” Moon muttered to the image of her old partner.

  She was at a public terminal almost half a kilometre from her and Srin’s rented rooms, in the quietest spot she could find. One street away, heavy traffic meandered past, bogged down by the sheer volume of vehicles and the many stops made by courier and transport speeders along their routes. No more than twenty metres beyond that, where she kept a wary eye out for undesirable characters while she absorbed Kad’s words, was an alley of barely legal shops and gambling dens. Moon knew from experience that the alley only became busy after dusk, but she wasn’t about to risk her luck. Once she found out her next set of instructions, she would be gone.

  “Assuming you’re the one who’s playing this Moon, well done but, as you’ve probably concluded, this is only the first in a series of steps to bring you to me.” Kad flashed teeth, grinning a
t her. “I hope your memory’s as sharp as it was, because I have an account number for you.” He repeated a string of numbers that Moon was quick to enter into her personal assistant unit.

  “That number is linked to a temporary holding account with Marentim National, coded to your voiceprint. Not very secure, I know, but it’s the best I could come up with on short notice. Playing this chip initiated a transfer of two kilo-credits to that account, but it’ll only be there for twenty standard hours, so don’t hang around for too long before you decide to pick it up.”

  “Two kilo-credits,” Moon repeated, her eyebrows rising. Exactly what organisation did Kad belong to? The amount of money he’d named could buy a very nice holiday on an exclusive resort planet and was much more than she had been expecting.

  “As part of the process of authenticating you, I’ll get a copy of your voice-print identification, so if you’d like to leave me a message, be my guest. Just be a little careful about what you say. Your next stop is 3 Enkil IV but, to get there, you’ll need to find someone called Gauder. He’s a merchant of various, ah, goods and services. You might not like him very much but he hates the Republic as much as we do and he’s been one of my contacts in that sector for several years now. He’ll guide you to a rendezvous point where there’ll be a ship waiting for you. Use as much of the money as you can to book passage. Don’t act too needy and it shouldn’t cost you and your computer-brain friend more than one and half kilo-credits.”

  That was the first mention Kad made of Srin. Moon wondered how the two men would get on once they finally met.

  “I can’t tell you where Gauder is because he moves around a lot, but his base of operations is close to where the Velvet Storm dropped you off. Use your initiative. I can give you a code-phrase though, that should help smooth things with him. It’s ‘castle-communicator’.”

  He smiled and, in his face, Moon saw the young researcher that she’d hired, full of life and energy. She realised she’d missed his company these past few years.

  “I know, the phrase sounds ridiculous but that’s the beauty of it.” He sobered. “I’ll find a way to contact you on Enkil IV.” The picture lingered for a second, Kad staring at her with an amused earnestness, then the screen blacked out. Moon didn’t need to see the wisp of smoke emerging from the chip slot to know what happened next. With a clunk, a charred black disc fell into the terminal’s tray.

  She’d been right. The next stage of the frantic escape had begun.

  Chapter Two

  Moon wasn’t sure what she hated most about Marentim. Was it the heat? The chaos? The feeling that everyone around her was trying their best to scam her?

  She couldn’t figure it out. She had used some of the money Leen Vazueb had given them on Lunar Fifteen to buy clothes on Marentim. She dressed like a local, spoke the same language as the locals, shopped where locals shopped, and yet she still felt narrowed gazes follow her as she went about her daily business.

  The first time she had ventured out into the searing streets was to buy a cheap net-scoop. The seller had looked at her with a cynical gleam in his eye, trying to peddle more expensive versions with as few features as the cheaper models. Moon had been proud of herself, insisting on a basic model with more anonymous, read-only subscriptions to a number of news nets. She had walked away from the shop with her head held high…until she read some promotional material and realised that, while she’d saved money on the scoop, the dealer had charged her double the going price for the subscriptions. She had collapsed into a chair back at her and Srin’s habitat, listening to the man she loved trying to control his spasms in the bedroom, calculating the amount of money she’d lost, and wanting to burst into tears.

  “What have we done?” she asked herself.

  Life within the Republic’s Science Directorate had been a hedonistic pleasure in comparison to what she faced now. In the past, she never had to worry about what she ate, where she slept, how safe she was. In return, all the Republic had asked for was her soul. Now, her soul was free, but she was racked with anxiety and uncertainty, forced to count every credit. It was difficult to know which was the better option.

  Moon felt so weary at that moment, an exhaustion that bit through to her bones. A small part of her had even entertained the idea of turning themselves in to the Security Force. The local office was a mere fifteen-minute shuttle ride away. She was sure she and Srin would have been separated if they surrendered, but at least he would get medical treatment, something that had been beyond her meagre abilities when they first landed on Marentim.

  Somehow, she had recovered from that initial sense of crushing depression. It helped when she thought of Hen Savic’s implacable face and the way he’d rationalised drugging a fellow human being for almost twenty years. When she pictured Consul Rosca Moises with her even white teeth, supercilious smile and predator eyes. When she saw the expression of pain and loss in Captain Drue Jeen’s eyes. When she saw the expression of hope on Srin’s face.

  It had taken several weeks of painful experience, and a rapidly depleting wallet, but she was handling herself a lot better now. She made sure only to shop for items when other people were shopping for the same thing. Sometimes that meant that she bought fowl instead of hoof meat, or tubers when she had her mind set on fresh greens, but that was a small price to pay. With several people in line, and the person in front of her buying the same kind of item – whether produce or commodities – Moon discovered that she couldn’t be cheated to the same extent as she had been.

  She had even cultivated a disinterested half-smile that she used on persistent traders and merchants. The old Moon would have hated such an expression, feigning superiority, but the new Moon didn’t. In fact, she was rather proud of it. She had always considered herself as a straightforward person, nervous with deception and impatient with artifice, but knew that that was a useless trait in her current life. If she and Srin were going to get to Kad, she would have to start developing a protective emotional carapace on Marentim. And the sooner she started, the better.

  With the charred disc stashed in a pocket, Moon walked away from the alley of gambling dens and mingled with the slow-moving pedestrian crowd along the main road. Now that she had a name – Gauder – and a destination – 3 Enkil IV – it was time to put the preparation stage of their plan into effect.

  When she and Srin had drawn up possible strategies on the Velvet Storm – how to find accommodation, what to say if questioned by a Security Force patrol – they had assumed that there would be two people to handle the situations thrown at them. They would do everything as a team. That was the expectation at the beginning of their voyage, when they were still full of exhilaration at escaping the Republic. But, when Srin started to fall ill again, Moon realised that, once more, she would have to bear the brunt of the work, just as she had during their initial escape on Slater’s End.

  The first order of business, however, was getting hold of the money Kad had deposited for her.

  Moon discarded the burnt communications chip in a rubbish bin far from the public terminal she had used, dodged a small knot of pedestrians, and headed for the closest directory screen. The nearest branch of Marentim National was three blocks away and she walked the distance as briskly as she could, ignoring the growing trickle of sweat that ran down her back. It was barely mid-morning and already the air resembled the interior of a hot oven.

  A blast of refrigerated air hit her face as she entered the bank and she almost moaned with relief. Taking time to stretch her tense muscles, she strolled around, revelling in the crisp coolness. The walls were clad in panels of matte silver with faux-timber trims and the bright blue carpet underfoot was so plush, Moon felt as if she was walking on thick sponge. Together with the ornate lighting fixtures, the total effect of the busy foyer was one of ostentation but little taste.

  Finally, when she thought her body had temporarily halted expelling sweat through her pores, she headed for the “Information/Reception” sign above a group of
four counters. Behind each, holograms of androgynous-looking humanoids flickered.

  “May I help you?” the AI asked in several languages, as Moon stepped into its activation range.

  Replying as quietly as she could in ingel, Moon replied that she needed to make a private withdrawal from an account.

  There was a pause while the clerk processed the request, then she was directed to a human at one of the far-right counters.

  “May I help you?” the woman asked when Moon approached. The woman’s skin was a dark reddish-brown and it looked exotic in the otherwise blandly corporate surroundings.

  Moon repeated her request and provided the account number Kad had given her.

  “The account requires voiceprint identification,” the clerk told her, after a quick check. “We have a booth for such use.”

  “And is the booth secured?” Moon asked.

  Something flashed in the woman’s eyes that could have been affront. “Only the initiator of the transaction receives an encrypted copy of the voiceprint after recording,” she replied stiffly. “We routinely wipe all transactions within microseconds of verification.”

  “And you don’t listen to what I’ve recorded?” Moon persisted.

  “No madam. All I receive is notification on whether the voiceprint was authenticated and funds can be released. Yes or no.”

  Moon was scanned before entering the booth and had to leave her personal unit behind. In addition, the booth walls were transparent, making it difficult to fake a recording. Only difficult, not impossible. She wondered where Kad had found a voice clip of hers to act as the authentication sample. Had he been monitoring their work the entire time he’d been at the Phyllis Centre?

  The clerk clicked the door shut and motioned for her to start talking whenever she was ready. What should she say? Thanks for helping us? How many more hoops do I have to jump through before we’re safe? Why the hell can’t you come and get us? She didn’t need Kad’s words to remind her that she had to be careful with what she said.